What am I and whence? and whither?
Whose the varied voice of wonder?
Who would wrest a revelation from the universe at call?
It is I, a sturdy Teuton,
I, a man of metaphysics,
And I speak for Celt or Saxon, I, an individual.
It is I, an early Aztec;
I, an Indian I, a Negro;
It is I, a Greek, an ancient; I, a Hebrew, son of Shem;
I, a Chaldee; I, Mongolian,
Of a dynasty primeval;
I, a mummified Egyptian, from the storied land of Khem.
What is man, and whence, and whither?
Have the oracles been napping
When the question was propounded by the venerated
Past?—
Leave your wars and leave your lucre,
Face to face with Truth communing,
And creation's coy arcana will unveil serene and fast.
